


ultra kind of love you never walk away from

by haikquu



Series: phools {klance} [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Language of Flowers, M/M, Minor reference to suicide, VERY minor and super implicit just like a sort of desensitisation to life for a very short while, just tagging to be safe!, minor mention of depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-04
Updated: 2018-04-10
Packaged: 2019-04-16 19:59:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14172327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haikquu/pseuds/haikquu
Summary: I'm here in search of your glory, there's been a million before methat ultra-kind of love you never walk away fromyou're just the last of the real ones





	1. here at the beginning of the end

**Author's Note:**

> this is the third & final part of the series! 
> 
> i'm separating this into 3 smaller chapters so I can ensure a particular tone is sustained throughout bc these go a little deeper than the prev two parts. however they'll be part of the same 'work' and they're all written up so will be posted within the next few days!!! 
> 
> hope u all still enjoy!!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Without realising it either, Keith had given Lance a power that he’d only ever given to few other people. With it, Lance had unknowingly changed his mindset, controlled his thoughts even to the point where just hearing his voice brought a strange sense of comfort to Keith.
> 
> It was a comfort he hadn't felt in a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> part one of three of part three of three lol. i originally planned to post this as only three parts but i really think (so as to not undermine Keith and his pov) that i need to separate this last part to isolate & preserve the individual tones. so its like 3 'works' in the series but this last 'work' has three chapters.
> 
> hope u can all bear with me )))):
> 
> i promise i have everything written up! just takes a really long time to get it beta-d )))): my friends beta for me and we all have exams coming up so.......... ya 
> 
> but expect this to be finished within the next few days! like entirely posted promise.

The air was thick again, the muggy and _nauseating_ odours from various plants and herbs rising and mingling. It was suffocating. Everything was sharp and sickly, from the oversaturated green hues to the sour tang in the air and the faint hiss from a pipe in the shop, a water outlet that always seemed to be running somewhere.

Keith had begun to despise the shop again.

He felt a jolt of surprise when he realised he hadn't even noticed when he stopped hating it.

Somewhere over the past few weeks, the harsh lime green had regressed into softer jades, the air less vehemous, the light from the alcove warm and welcoming. There had been a shift of presence, unbeknownst to Keith initially, in which the harshness of it all had subsided into warmth. He hadn't noticed it change at first, supposed actually that nothing _had_ really changed apart from his perspective.

As he fixated on it, he realised could trace the change back directly now, to a chime at the door, a grin and a melodious laugh that had haunted him ever since.

 _Lance_.

Without realising it either, Keith had given Lance a power that he’d only ever given to few other people. With it, Lance had unknowingly changed his mindset, reigned over his thoughts to the point where just hearing his voice brought a strange sense of comfort to Keith.

It was a comfort he hadn't felt in a while.

Unknowingly, Keith had allowed himself to develop feelings for the boy, the boy who a while ago had been a complete stranger but now held a huge influence on Keith.

And Keith had indulged himself for a while in those few days after acknowledging his feelings. He’d allowed himself to dream, fantasise even, letting those soft smiles and melodic laughs carry him away a little. He’d let himself get a little lost in each lingering touch, in conversations that carried on past the sunsets, in gentle teasing and warm eyes.

For his third realisation in that moment, Keith realised he’d thought he’d had a chance. Lance had been so _kind_ , always going out of his way for Keith, out of his way to ensure he was okay, out of his way to smile at him, to see him, to talk to him, to _touch_ him.

Lance was like that with everyone, right? Lance was just like that. With everyone.

Lance. Lance _Lance Lance._ The mere thought of the name signaled a typhoon of emotions in Keith’s chest, a fluttering paired with a panicked increase in his pulse, but also a weighing pressure and piercing jolt that made it difficult to breathe for a different reason. It hurt sometimes, so much so that it had Keith nearly reeling over, confused as to why he ached so much for something he’d never had.

It was in the name, he supposed; Keith’s heart was _crushed_.

Keith had only felt like this a few times in his life, when the people he’d loved had left him. He hadn't loved that many people in his life. He loved Shiro, but that was very different. He’d loved his mother, and that was also different, less fluttery and more just overwhelming pain, a suffocating almost _stabbing_ pain, as if he’d been impaled and was still bleeding out years later.

Keith didn't think he was in love, surely not.

But then he thought about Lance again, about his loud shrill laughter that somehow brought a comfort over Keith, his bright eyes that seemed to black out everything else around him. His tendency to wear oversized sweaters in the winter, _very_ tight tops in the summer, and complain about everything and anything to Keith. He thought about the way the other boy’s eyebrows would furrow in concern or displeasure when Keith would say something a little too disparaging, how he’d barge into the backroom arms full of food every so often, or just how over the weeks he’d made a habit of checking in on Keith late in the night.

But Lance was like that with everyone, right?

Keith had been a bit of a lovesick fool, fulfilling his every request, even helping him with bouquets to give to whomever he was _actually_ interested in.

But then again Keith thought back to his apartment, the fridge that had somehow managed to stock itself without his own interference, lights that stayed on, a single vase of flowers on the windowsill that had appeared out of nowhere.

He hadn’t been in love, but maybe he could be.

Or at least, he could _have_ _been_.

The flowers had long since wilted and his fridge was empty.

It had been days and he’d heard nothing from Lance. He had no one to be in love with, just a quiet little ‘what if?’ that crawled around the back of his mind. What if Lance was still here? What if Keith had confessed? What if…

Keith scoffed internally at that. It was just a crush -- he was overreacting. It had just… been a while since he’d felt this way. Actually, it was probably the first time he’d ever felt this way. He was just a little overwhelmed by the unfamiliarity of it all, it would subside. This would all subside.

Nothing played out loud anymore in the shop, Pidge barely talked to him beyond a few quips here and there. Everything was so quiet and still and Keith’s thoughts were a little too loud again, but that's the way things had always been.

Lance had just been a small, happy distraction in his life, but that was all he’d be. It was time for Keith to go back to reality.

His reality fell apart with a crash as he heard a loud slam of the door from outside the backroom. He jolted up out of his seat, ready to run outside when the door of the backroom was pushed open too with a force that startled Keith.

His eyes widened as he took in the figure before him, trailing the familiar edges and outlines. It was like seeing a ghost. Here Lance was, after weeks of radio silence, looking like something straight out of Keith’s dreams.

But at the same time something was different. Firstly Lance was drenched, weight of water and what looked like mud pulling down at his shirt. Keith was sure but there seemed to be jagged, fraying tears in the fabric. Lance had a jacket that he was wearing only on one arm, and a backpack that had already fallen to the floor from the other. He looked like a wreck, the dim yellow lights casting shadows under his eyes, eyes which seemed to be a little bloodshot.

He was shaking, lips quivering slightly as he opened them to talk.

“I need you.”

Keith felt a sharp, burgeoning pain in his chest that almost had him reeling over. It felt hard to breathe suddenly, he kept intaking air but it didn't feel like enough and he kept needing more and more.

He felt all of this and yet at the same time he was frozen, unable to move or react in anyway, a statue in front of the other boy. He could feel his bottom lip trembling, the surprise and shock icy in his veins, nerves numbed.

“I need you.” Lance repeated, this time little more than a whisper. The sound graced Keith, flooded over him, quenching a thirst he hadn’t know he’d had like rain in a desert.

He hadn't realised how much he’d missed the other boy’s voice.

“Come upstairs.”

 

* * *

 

Lance no longer carried the same force by which he’d slammed the door, it seemed. He followed behind Keith somewhat meekly, trailing up the stairs and taking hesitant steps into Keith’s apartment. Keith observed this all with a frown; Lance had been in his apartment hundreds of times by now but never like this.

Lance always seemed to have a way of leaving Keith slightly breathless, but as Keith forced the other still shaking boy to take a seat on his sofa, usually bright blue eyes hollow and distant, Keith recognised this as a type of breathless he never wanted to feel.

Keith quickly sneaked into his room to dig out a spare blanket from the wardrobe, wrapping the other boy around with it. Lance still kept shivering. Keith could feel a swelling panic bubbling inside him. He quickly rushed to the kitchen to turn on the stove, realising a few moments later that the gas was off. _Shit_.

He returned meekly to the other boy, anxiously taking a seat next to him.

“Lance?” He asked gently, voice a little shaky. The air was still, the apartment lit only by the yellow streetlights. “Lance?” He still received no response. He waited another moment before reaching out a hand slowly to touch the other boy’s face.

Lance crumbled into his touch, burying his face into Keith’s chest.

Keith blinked a few times in bewilderment, before the familiar pain sparked up in his chest as he looked down at the other boy curled up in a tight ball on his side. He lifted his arms to wrap around Lance, pulling him in tighter, wincing as he felt how cold he still was.

“Lance, what happened?” He pressed again after a few moments when he felt Lance’s shaking subside a little.

He heard Lance chuckle dryly, a sharp knot twisting in his stomach at the sound.

“You must think I’m so pathetic.” The other boy spat out, but the self-directed malice was muffled partially by his face still in Keith’s clothes. “You must _hate_ me.”

“Lance, no, of course I don’t hate you!” Keith rushed out, pulling Lance off him to look at his face closely. He felt another lurch in his stomach as he noticed the sheen under his eyes, the tears standing out starkly against his dark circles. “I _don't_ hate you, now what happened?”

Lance met his eyes, still apprehensive and distant but Keith held his gaze, hoping he could connote the intensity he was feeling through his eyes. It seemed to work as Lance visibly softened, less stiff and shaky than before.

“I’m sorry.” Lance whispered, his head dropping. “I’m sorry for ignoring you.”

Keith had expected to feel better hearing those words, expected some sort of satisfaction or relief. Instead he just felt worse.

His moved his hands to cup around Lance’s face, lifting his head back up. “Lance, you have _nothing_ to apologise for.” Lance simply smiled bitterly at that. “Where were you? Why are you drenched?”

“It was raining.” Lance replied curtly.

Lance never gave short answers.

“But it stopped raining a few hours ago, where have you been since?”

“I told you there were lots of important things this side of town.” Lance began slowly. Keith held his breath as he watched the other boy speak, eyes glued to every movement. “The hospital was one of them.”

Keith gulped down the bile rising in his throat.

“Why were you at the hospital?” He asked slowly. Lance’s eyes fell again. For a moment Keith thought he’d lost the other boy again before he spoke.

“My grandmother died.” He whispered. It was so soft, so shaky that Keith thought he hadn't heard it until he saw the swelling in Lances eyes, silent tears running down his cheeks.

Keith felt devastated.

“She died a few days ago.” He repeated, voice slightly louder. “She’d been sick for a while, but these past few weeks it had been getting worse and worse. None of us expected this so soon.”

 _I don’t know how to help him_.

Keith didn't know what to do, he’d never seen the other boy like this before.

“I’d been visiting her nearly every day after coming here first for the flowers.”

_Oh._

“So all the bouquets…” Keith trailed off, voice meek.

“She said those flowers made her feel happy, more alive. I’ve never gone to her without them since.” Lance’s eyes sparkled for a moment, and it felt like Keith could almost see the essence of the Lance he knew before everything crashed and Lance crumbled into his arms again.

He’d never seen the other boy so broken before.

He realised he didn't know much about caring for someone else but in that moment, _holy shit,_ he wanted to.

Keith had never really looked after anyone else before. He didn't know what it was like to care for someone else, hell, he struggled to properly care for himself. He’d never had to, never wanted to. He didn't care enough to properly look after himself and old habits die hard.

But Lance was there, in his arms, head buried deep in his neck absolutely distraught.

He wanted to change so bad.

“Her funeral’s tomorrow.” Lance’s voice came up after a while, muffled by Keith’s clothes again. “I- I didn't know what else to do so I came here. I didn't want to be alone.”

Keith had been alone too. Keith had been alone for as long as he could remember, until a few months ago when Lance had interrupted all of that and helped him. Lance had always helped him.

He decided in that moment to do something.

“Let me help you.” Keith said, voice shaky.

“What?” Lance breathed out in shock, lifting his head to look up at Keith.

“Let me help you.” He repeated, more steadily.

So he did. He took Lance back to his apartment for the night, knowing full well the boy was in no shape to get back himself so late at night. Keith did it for Lance, but he supposed it was a little bit selfish too, ensuring he got back safely numbed the pain in his chest a little.

He got out of his car to take Lance to his apartment but Lance put a hand out, stopping him from unbuckling his belt.

“You should go home.” He said, voice soft but firm. Keith blinked a few times in surprise, hand still on his seatbelt.

He’d never seen Lance’s apartment actually.

He realised for what felt like the thousandth time that night how little he truly knew Lance.

The passenger door slammed shut, snapping Keith to action. Keith rushed out of the car, ready to run after Lance until he met the other boy’s eyes and stopped immediately in his tracks.

“Go home, Keith.”

Keith wanted to tell him he was wrong, an unspoken _I want to help you,_ but Lance had already turned away. Keith stood there, still on the asphalt, eyes glued to Lance’s figure as he slinked away into the building. He stayed standing there for a few more minutes, until he couldn't justify staying any longer.

It was a sleepless night after that. Lance’s hollowed eyes still staring into him everytime he tried to close his eyes.

 

The next day he drove him to the funeral, said he’d be waiting for him at the car.

Keith hadn’t asked why it was him there with Lance, and not Hunk or Pidge, but Lance had answered anyways. _‘They were both close to her… they should worry about themselves, not me.’_

Keith hadn’t been in love yet he still felt heartbroken, his heart shattered into shards each digging and slicing into the the walls of his chest.

The funeral was a somber affair, none of the joy and vitality he had come to attribute to Lance and his family. It was to be expected, _of course_ , but it still felt wrong, sitting here in the silence of his car.

He’d sat in his car for the whole thing, unable to follow Lance inside but also unable to leave him. He stared instead at the bouquets adorning the building, trails of calla lilies, tulips, and marigolds. He’d remembered bitterly creating similar arrangements for Lance, believing at the time they were for whoever he was seeing. The lillies seemed to emanate the same bitterness back at him, a sneering reminder of his stupidity.

While he waited he wondered why exactly he was doing this. _Who_ he was to be doing this. He couldn't be the person Lance deserved.

But then Lance stepped back in looked absolutely devastated and uttered a simple _‘drive’_ and then Keith remembered.

“Do you want me to drop you back at your place?”

For a moment Lance didn't respond. Keith wished he could turn to his side to look at him but he knew if he did he wouldn't be able to turn back to the road.

“Let’s go to yours.”

Keith nodded and silently drove them to the shop, all throughout the ride his skin prickling in aprehension. He could feel a strange energy coming from Lance, a rising… something, like a ticking time-bomb. It scared Keith a little, having the other so still and unresponsive next to him. Keith pulled up next to the shop.

“Do you want to come in?” He asked slowly.

Keith could feel Lance staring at him, burning holes in his skin. A few days ago this would’ve sent a blush straight to his cheeks, but Keith just felt anxious, the coldness in Lance’s stare so unfamiliar.

“Did you sleep last night?”

“Yeah.” Keith lied. Lance frowned.

“Have you eaten at all today?”

“Yes.” Keith lied again.

“I swear to god, Keith!” Lance snapped making him jump. “You’re gonna kill yourself like this.”

“I can take care of myself, Lance.” The words felt like ice in his mouth, and hit like ice as he saw Lance’s eyes darken in response.

“I saw your apartment, Keith.” Lance chuckled dryly, sending chills down Keith’s spine. The bitterness in his tone felt too foreign, too unfamiliar to the person Keith had come to know him as. “Don't lie to me.”

Once again Keith’s apartment had become an unintentional reflection of himself, minimalist half-function inhabitants of the place mirroring his psyche. Keith had never seen Lance’s place.

Maybe Keith didn't really know the other boy at all.

“Keith, I don’t think I can do this.”

That snapped his head up, eyes panicked as he stared at the boy next to him.

“I… I don't understand…”

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I can bring myself to become close to somebody I could lose.” Lance’s eyes were hollow again and distant, but that didn't stop Keith from searching in them to try find an answer. “I don't want to lose anyone else.”

Before he could find what he was looking for Lance had stepped out of the car, the door slammed shut behind him. Keith saw Lance’s figure shrink from the side window as he ran.

Keith let out a shaky breath and turned of the engine, and just like the last time he didn't follow him.

 

* * *

 

 

Keith felt a chill in his heart that he hadn't felt in years, a resurfacing ice age that shut him off slowly from everything around him. He had mastered this careful ambivalence as a child.

Sometimes Keith would just let the lights turn off, play a game with how long it would take for the respective companies to cut him off. His lights were out, gas gone, he was just waiting on water. His fridge had been empty for a while, but that didn't bother him too much.

Very little seemed to bother him anymore.

He was content with inaction, unconcerned with actively engaging in his life anymore.

Sometimes he’d daze off during work and cut himself on a thorn or trimmer, and just leave it. He didn't feel the need to help himself, didn't feel like he had a reason too.

Lance had noticed that about him.

Lance hated that about him.

His prior routine resumed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also i really cant thank everyone enough for commenting and giving kudos & it always make my day sooooo much to see! as always pls feel free to comment below or talk to me more on my tumblr @starwar. take care! i will update soon~


	2. you drain all the fear from me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith supposed he’d been angry at first. He’d definitely wanted to be angry but then Lance’s troubled eyes and small curled figure popped back into his mind and he just couldn’t. He wanted to hate Lance, but he just couldn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhh thank you all so much for the nice comments!!!! i cant say it enough they really do make my day! i hope you all enjoy this

Keith hadn’t realised how quiet the shop could get. Pidge still came in, Hunk a few times too, but both of them didn't say much to him. Keith didn't mind it though; he didn't feel like engaging in the effort either. Shiro was always a constant around the shop, but he wasn't permanent; he flitted in and out when his work schedule permitted it.

Keith didn't mind; he’d reassembled a new routine around himself. Wake up, work, study, work, sleep, work. It was a little quiet, but he didn't let himself dwell on it. Strangely enough, he didn't feel repulsed by the flower-shop anymore, instead almost drawing comfort from the monotony of it all.

After all, it was just another thing that was constant and unchanging, a fixture in his life.

Keith supposed he’d been angry at first. He’d definitely _wanted_ to be angry but then Lance’s troubled eyes and small curled figure popped back into his mind and he just couldn’t. He wanted to hate Lance, but he just couldn’t.

So he let the anger build and swell, a ticking time-bomb of a threat growing more malevolent each day. He hated that he’d let himself grow attached to Lance, hated the intensity with which the boy resided in his head, his ability to control and invoke these powerful emotions in Keith. He felt like he’d lost his autonomy to the other boy, and worst of all was that Lance didn’t feel the same way.

Keith didn’t think Lance hated him, but if the way he’d left him was any indication, the other boy certainly didn’t care much for him.

Those special smiles, special hours together late at night eating takeout in the backroom or in Keith’s car, the other late nights where they’d driven back out of the city to see the stars again, sometimes with other, sometimes alone.

Keith’s heart clenched. He felt the anger resurface.

He let it grow until it began cutting off his air, blocking veins and arteries and nerves until it climaxed and he just stopped feeling anything at all.

It was strange; whereas before the flowers had felt oversaturated, now they just felt dull. However, though less nauseating it was all still a bit unsettling. Keith had thought he’d craved this dullness but he found himself wanting the previous.

The hatred had felt better than this ambivalence.

It was quiet, and when it got quiet his thoughts got a little too loud. He could hear that sentence now in Shiro’s chastising tone. After all, he repeated it all too often, a consequence of Keith’s overactive mind. Keith tried not to dwell on things but often he just couldn't help it.

It wasn't like he had a distraction anymore.

Days like these he wondered how his mother did it, working here day in and day out, from early in the day to sunrise of the next morning. She had lived and breathed in these corridors, her life had worked its way into every plant on every shelf.

He supposed that just as his apartment reflected his mind, the shop reflected his mother. Or at least, reflected the way in which she had existed for Keith.

Her loss had been one of the first he’d ever experienced in his life and nothing had prepared him for it. It was why he was better practiced now with repression and suppression. He’d mastered his programming to move on, the painful experience teaching him how to avoid engaging with problems altogether.

However, something was off with his code now; he could no longer suppress her memory.

Perhaps it was the way in which he didn’t detest the shop anymore, her life’s work, that had caused her to resurface in his mind.

_“Eomma,” he whispered, soft voice cutting through the silence of the backroom. “Why aren’t you sleeping?”_

_“What are you doing awake?!” She exclaimed, jolting in surprise at his intrusion. He peered over the top of the desk to see scattered plant clippings and glass holders, and bags of soil, some spilled over the desktop. He looked over at his mother who had gotten over her surprise and was now slightly slumped over the desk, head resting heavily on her palm. “I’ll sleep soon, I just have to finish these last few propagations… there's a big order...”_

_She looked tired. She smiled at Keith but he could tell it didn’t reach her eyes. He couldn’t understand why, but it felt like she was lying to him._

_It had been like this for days. He didn’t have to be a grownup to recognise her sluggish actions, notice the way her eyelids drooped in the middle of the day covering bloodshot eyes._

_He was confused; he loved the shop too, largely because she loved it, but it seemed to cause her so much pain. He didn't understand how she could continue loving something so wholeheartedly, dedicate her entire self to it, when it took so much out of her to do so._

He didn’t get a chance to follow up on it though, she died a few days later. She loved the shop too much, even when the delivery staff had canceled she still _had_ to deliver everything herself. She always _had_ to do everything _herself_.

Keith hadn’t been the best kid. He could recall those moments now, the memories saturated in anger and bitterness. A bile rose in his throat.

He felt like the butt of some giant cosmic joke. Over the last few months he’d undergone a multitude of emotions, been pushed to his very limit as different timelines of his life collided. Shiro, his present and future had met Pidge, who’d held an important keystone in Keith’s past.

Keith didn’t want to dwell on either. He wanted to take himself out of his own timeline and cease existing altogether.

He couldn’t help but think that it had been nice, still, to remember with Pidge. To almost forgive and forget with Pidge, but he was a coward who could barely apologise to them, let alone give himself the relief of their forgiveness.

He’d tried to forget, _god_ he’d tried to forget his past but he couldn’t. The memories flickered now even, somewhat incomplete from years of suppression but the ones he could see were like the heart of a flame; as vivid as ever.

He could remember the little things.

Skipping classes, sneaking in alcohol to school, getting into arguments with students. Just _little_ things, like finding his locker broken and messed up, graffiti on Pidge’s locker, muddied bookbags, torn up notebooks.

_Little things._

He remembered seeing Pidge everyday. They weren't in the same class, but that didn't stop them from spending nearly every other moment together. He wasn't the best role model, in hindsight, but he’d enjoyed every moment.

Until the end of course, where he’d snapped. Shiro had taken a job, said he wasn't coming back for a while after university and once again Keith felt like he had no one.

It didn't help that Pidge was going through their own problems too. Didn't help that Keith had been too caught up in himself to really notice or even care. Didn't help that he’d avoided all confrontation after royally fucking up, like the coward he was, and instead let their relationship crumbling.

So there were the little things, but also there were the big ones.

Visions of him in a fight, then on a highway, then a car crash, the edges of the memory tinged with red-hot anger and alcohol. He saw the photos in the local news report after, a sickening feeling in his stomach as he realised how similar they looked to his mother’s crash.

He’d given Shiro’s family a headache for sure. It was a wonder they still even stayed in touch. If he were in their place he’d be glad he was gone, out of their sight and out of their lives.

He wanted to call Pidge now strangely enough. Over the time they’d been in the shop they’d worked their way back into Keith’s life almost effortlessly, full of ther quips and taunts but also sporting a more mature, calming presence.

But Pidge felt too close to Lance and after all, Keith was still a coward. Pidge had forgiven him but he didn't think he could ever forgive himself.

So Keith ignored it, welcoming the numbness that followed behind.

Some days were more memorable than others. Ms Park for instance, still came every week without fail. Her warm, bright aura almost throttled the numbness out of Keith. He felt like he couldn’t be anything but _present_ around her, stifling the raging thoughts and focusing wholly on her presence, for the most part at least.

“You look down, Keith.” she commented, eyeing him carefully as he wrapped up her bouquet. Keith tried to smile at her in reassurance but he could feel how forced it was, how uncomfortable it felt on his face. “Your friend hasn’t been here in a while.” she mused, looking around the shop. Keith’s hands froze for a second before resuming what he was doing quickly.

“Yeah, haha, you know how university is. Busy, busy, busy.”

She chuckled knowingly at that. “You’re so much like your mother. She was an awful liar too.”

The bouquet slipped out of his hands on the countertop. He clasped his right hand with his left hard as he noticed it beginning to shake.

Ms Park observed him with a sad smile.

“She liked to do things alone too. So stubborn she was, she refused to change herself for anyone. She always had her way, except with you of course.”

The problem with repressing everything, Keith realised, was that you were just pushing things down. The larger the hole the more dirt you can chuck in, but still, things eventually reach the surface and overflow.

“Ms Park,” he began slowly, his voice shaky. “Why do you come here? There must be hundreds of shops closer to you.”

“You know that your mother and I were well acquainted, right?” Keith nodded slowly. “She was one of my closest friends, I cared about her a lot and you too.” Keith couldn’t meet her gaze anymore. “Think of it as vested interest, someone has to keep an eye on you.”

“What do I do?” Keith left the full sentence unspoken, the _how do I change?_ choking in his throat.

“You don’t have to change if you don’t want to Keith.” he gaze was heavy, causing him to almost squirm under the weight of it as she eyed him carefully. “Especially not for anyone else. Ask your mother, she’s all to familiar with that.”

Keith had wanted to change for Lance, but he began thinking maybe he couldn't. When he was younger he’d tried to change for Shiro, and that landed him with a shop he despised and a college major he couldn't keep up with. For a while he’d wanted to change for his mother too, and all that had left him with was an empty space in his heart and an encyclopedias worth of useless botanic knowledge.

He’d tried to change for so many people, but he felt like he always ended up back where he’d been at the start, like an elastic band pulled taut and then just let go.

_'She refused to change herself for anyone.'_

Perhaps, the only permanent change would come from trying to change for himself.

 

* * *

 

 

Keith had never been one for dramatics. That had always been Shiro (exhibit a, the _hair_ ) and more recently Lance. Keith preferred to be subtle, although his preferences were often undermined by his… _temperamental_ personality. Sometimes Keith raged and blazed with no caution to his surroundings.

But even so, Keith was rarely one for dramatic life changes, until now.

He’d cleaned his apartment.

There was electricity for the first time in days.

Keith had even put a flower in the vase on the windowsill, a single sunflower stalk (the familiar _Helianthus_ ) bright and demanding of attention.

Keith’s changes hadn’t gone unnoticed. Shiro had approached him once in the backroom, after Keith had disappeared there for a few hours. It was a slow Sunday afternoon, so Keith had decided to start a few cultures for the working week. He’d actually decided to start growing something, completely on his own, without any customer or Shiro related prompting.

It was something foreign to him, but it was the first time in a while he’d actually wanted to create something new in the shop, to contribute to the shelves.

_“Keith.”_

He’d knocked over one of the orchards in surprise at Shiro’s voice. He bent down to pick it up gently, moving it speedily to a new pot and rushing to get it some soil.

Shiro’s eyes widened in astonishment.

“Who _are_ you?” he’d questioned, mouth agape.

“Ah - Shiro, get me the nitrates solution, quickly!”

Shiro eyed him carefully before reluctantly following his request, coming back moments later. He stood beside Keith, watching as Keith tried to help the plant, eyes boring holes into Keith’s sides.

“What?” Keith asked exasperated, after a few moments.

“What caused all of this?”

Keith didn't respond at first, not quite sure what Shiro was referring.

“Pardon?”

“You’ve changed.” Shiro commented, somewhat warily as Keith felt him eye him cautiously. “You’re… I don't know… different. What happened?”

Keith stopped what he was doing, hands frozen midair. What had caused all of this?

“I saw a grocery receipt the other day.” Shiro continued. “Are you... _cooking_ for yourself?”

Keith snorted at that.

“Don’t act so surprised.” Keith said, rolling his eyes. “It's not like I don’t know how to cook.”

“But you never have before!” Shiro exclaimed. “There have been days where you’ve almost starved yourself… and now… you’re even _grocery shopping_ ? _Without_ me telling you to? What's changed? What’s going on Keith?” his voice softened and his eyes were full of concern. Keith sighed, turning to give his full attention to Shiro.

“It's not a big deal Shiro.”

“It's a _huge_ deal! Don't gloss this over. I understand if you don't want to talk about it… but I’ve noticed the efforts you’ve made recently and they’re not just nothing.”

Shiro was looking at him with so much kindness and concern that Keith couldn't find it in himself to shrug the other off anymore. He felt his heart clench a little, moved by the worry Shiro extended towards him.

“I just... never really cared about myself before.” Keith replied softly.

“And you do now?”

Keith paused at that, thoughtful. “I suppose… I care about how my actions affect the people I care about… how they affect you.”

Shiro’s face softened.

“Change isn't always bad… and it's not always dramatic… but I think it's important. Every little step is important, Keith.”

Keith smiled warmly back, slightly moved again by the gentleness with which Shiro addressed him.

_Little steps._

So he took little steps, little steps out of the shop and into his car. More little steps along the asphalt, past trees and bushes to the familiar stone slab in the centre of the garden.

She loved orchids. Keith had never understood why because they took so much effort to grow and were so temperamental. Any slight external shock had them withering up, but she believed they were well worth the effort, teasing him sometimes ( _‘Aish Keith, you’re worse than these orchards… but just as beautiful’_ ).

She’d liked purple the best, said blue and red were good on their own, but even better together.

It had been awhile since he’d sat on the grass here. She wasn't buried here; her ashes were in an urn elsewhere, but she’d been manning this small spot in the community gardens for so many years that they’d allowed a small headrest in memoriam.

He hadn’t come to the gardens since.

There were some flowers here now, Shiro’s doing most likely, but the edges of the patch were overrun with weeds. It was a pity to see, one that tugged on Keith’s heart. It was almost a disgrace to her memory, the visual stain of blotchy planting and unmanaged growth.

_I’ll just have to fix it._

“I think,” Keith began, small smile on his lips. “I’m ready to forget him. For a while he made me feel annoyed, _so_ annoyed, and frustrated, then… _fluttery_ , but then angry, and then,” Keith paused for a moment, the rollercoaster of emotions he was recounting feeling a little more vivid than he was ready for. “Then painful, _Eomma_ , I felt so _devastated_. Then I stopped feeling anything at all. If you were here right now you’d probably be so mad at me for running away… but you’re not and I’ve had to learn how to deal with that on my own. And I am, learning that is, it took a while but I’m going to be better at it now.

I think… I’ve been a little unfair to you. Actually, that's an understatement. I’ve blamed you, knowing I had no reason to, and then when that become clear, I relocated resentment from you to myself… and it was this cycle for the longest time. I thought I’d stopped caring about myself and the people around me… but now I realise that I hadn’t. Instead. I’d just shut myself off to their feelings and my own, hurting them as a consequence without even realising. There are people on this earth who actually care if I’m gone, which I hadn’t realised, but for them I’ll try to stay a little longer. For them, for you and for myself.

“Now I think I can move on. And if I remember him at all, it’ll be happily. As a pleasant distraction - no, more than a distraction, as the catalyst for a turning point for me.”

Keith was ready to move on and forget. Well at least, he was ready to start trying. Keith had been rendered a bit of a emotional _fool_ , and that would be hard to move on from. But he was ready to try.

That effort was made significantly difficult however, when Keith heard a heavy push of glass and the signature chime of the bell from outside the backroom.

Keith frowned. It was past midnight, no one else should be here.

It was almost like _deja vu_.

He stood up slowly to see what was happening, when a figure emerged into the doorframe.

Keith momentarily forgot how to breathe.

He had been ready to forget, sure, but at that moment in time each memory was _vivid_. His eyes traced those exact memories, hungry for the familiar lines and edges of the silhouette of the boy in front of him, before coming to rest on his face.

“Hey.” Lance offered sheepishly.

Keith stood frozen for a few moments, dumbfounded.

“Lance… what are you doing here?”

“I just didn't want to be alone. Isn't that weird?” he chuckled, but it was a hollow sound. Keith's stomach clenched uncomfortably.

“You… you said you… you _told_ me…” Keith kept tripping over his own words, unable to sort through his thoughts that were racing around in his mind.

Somehow, his stumble of words seemed to cause something to snap in Lance, and his grimaced smile fell, exposure crumbling in mere seconds.

“Oh god, oh _god._ I’m awful aren't I? I told you I didn't want to see you and here I am, not even allowing you to _breathe_ on your own.”

Keith felt choked on his own words, unable to respond.

“ _God_ , I’m such an asshole. I told you to leave and yet here I am, _here I am_ . I’m such a fucking dick _oh my god_ … here I am pushing myself back into your life after _I_ told you to leave all because I hated being without you. Shit. _Shit shit shit-_ ”

Keith reached out to the other boy, clutching around his shoulders gently to try to cut him off. He couldn't follow the other boys thoughts, especially not when the words were gushing out all at once like some kind of bitter word vomit. He couldn't figure out at all what he was trying to get at, but he also couldn't just stand still and watch him crumble. If anything, that crushed his heart the most.

“Its…” Keith found himself at a slight loss for words, unable to comprehend the situation. “It’s okay… how did you get here? In any case you uh… dont look like you can get back on your own.” Keith gulped, hard. “You… can stay here.”

Lance seemed surprised at that, puzzled even as he followed Keith to his bedroom. He was jittery, Keith noticed, and simultaneously struggling to keep his eyes open.

“No, I want to properly apologise first.” Lance insisted, trying to sit up on the bed. That froze Keith for a moment, his words beginning to erode Keith’s carefully assembled exposure. However, he snapped out of it quickly and pushed the other boy down.

“Its 3 in the morning and you are _clearly_ completely out of it. Rest.” Keith said firmly, betraying his own wishes to hear the other boy speak.

Lance blinked a few times before giggling. _Giggling_ , and falling back onto the bed.

Keith felt relieved as he recognised he had made the right decision. He couldn't smell any alcohol on Lance, or any other indication that he was anything less than sober, but one glance at the slightly crazed look in his eyes had Keith stepping away. Lance felt a little unfamiliar in that moment.

“Mmm when did you get so domineering~” Lance teased, but he stopped pushing against Keith, instead laying back on the bed. It would have been a familiar line a few weeks ago, expected even from Lance, but now it just made Keith feel uneasy.

Keith let out a sigh of relief. “Stay.”

Lance smiled in response, closing his eyes gently. He lay like that for a few moments and Keith watched him to ensure there was nothing wrong with him. Keith felt satisfied that he’d be able to sleep through the night _without_ puking and so turned to leave the room, his thoughts increasing in pressure and volume with each step away from Lance, like a storm burgeoning on the horizon.

“Hey, Keith,” he stopped and his thoughts hushed. “Your lights seem to work now.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you all enjoyed this! (lol - as much as u can enjoy watching keith and lance in emotional turmoil that is)
> 
> as always, share your thoughts below! i literally live for them!!! and also, feel free to contact me on my tumblr @starwar or wtvr u want.
> 
> everything will be concluded in the last chapter (i know bc its already written up lol.) and that'll def be posted in the next few days!! trust me~~~ & alvidar dosto


	3. the end of infinity with you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The thought of losing you? Of not being able to take care of you when you need it? Broke me.”
> 
> There was no more nervousness, no more hesitance. Lance’s eyes met his with an unrivalled certainty, a sincerity which moved Keith. He felt the intensity of Lance’s words hit him like a wave, rolling over him and leaving him drenched with the impact.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhhhh AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. 
> 
> this has been a RIDE. thank you all for sticking w me so far!!!!! this is the first EVER fic i've actually seen to completion. isnt that crazy wooooow. 
> 
> would like to thank by lovely friends saima and steph for betaing this mess. if u see parts of this fic that look iffy and just badly written, imagine the horrible drafts they had to sort through lol.
> 
> slightly longer than the other two, but i hope this give u the ending u all wanted and think everyone deserves. thank u uwu
> 
> (p.s. .....if u wanna listen to last of the real ones while reading this.... play it near the end of the chapter.......... good stuff)

Keith’s head was a whirlpool of emotions and he didn’t know how to sort through any of them, so he did the natural thing and prolonged confrontation by ignoring Lance altogether. It wasn’t easy when the other was in his house, in his  _ room _ . Lance didn’t snore or sleep talk or anything, but his presence was  _ screaming _ and every receptor on Keith’s body seemed to be on high alert. 

Keith hadn’t been able to sleep the whole night, instead leaving the house to go down to the shop to find something to do. It was strange, he supposed. The shop used to be something he ran from and now it was something he ran to. 

Keith didn’t want to face Lance again, not after the turmoil he’d been put through, but at the same time he felt like he owed it to himself to see this through. To himself, and even to Lance, he felt like he had to hear out the boy who’d taken care of him during one of his worst nights, who’d taken care of him nearly every night since. 

He could stand on his own feet now; Keith didn’t need Lance to take care of him anymore. 

But that didn’t mean he didn’t want Lance to. 

He felt his heart still ache for the other, ache for their days full of warmth and laughter together. 

After all, after being crushed all the heart can really do is ache. 

He didn’t want Lance to wake up alone, so he hurried back to his place. He didn’t feel tired, instead anxiety was rising in his chest. He stood outside the door of his room, unable to push through. 

_ ‘I want to properly apologise.’ _

He wasn't ready to face Lance yet.

He gulped and turned away. His hands were still a little shaky, yearning for something to do. He decided to cook instead, the now sunlit living room reminding him of the time. He decided to postpone interaction for longer, trying to give himself more time to sift through his thoughts. 

Not that he could, though. 

He sighed begrudgingly, walking over to his space kitchen space to pull some ingredients out of the fridge. Eggs? Did Lance like eggs? Or fruit? Oh God, what if he hates fruit? What if he hates  _ both _ ?

_ I’m overthinking this.  _ There was no reason to get so worked-up.  

He decided to make both. 

A few minutes passed as he prepared the food, hands still a been unfamiliar around his kitchen but it was a process that would come to him with practice. It was nice here, calm in the early hours of the morning. Keith hadn’t ever felt so calm in his apartment.

He was in the middle of cutting strawberries when a voice disturbed the tranquility. 

“Are you…  _ cooking _ ?” 

The knife hit the board with a loud slam and then fell out of Keith’s hand. He looked up in shock to see Lance, standing at the doorway. 

“I thought you were still asleep.” Keith replied, still slightly dumbfounded by the mere presence of Lance.

Lance raised an arm behind his head to scratch his neck sheepishly. “Yeah I’m… so sorry about that.” He came closer to Keith, resting his hands on the counter. “The, uh… smell kind of woke me up.”

Keith noticed Lance’s eyes followed his movements as he proceeded to make food. Lance was unavoidable, it always seemed.

“I... um... I’ve been trying to learn how to cook.” Keith offered, feeling like he needed to say something to break the tension. Lance’s face however fell at that, eyes looking troubled.

“I hope this isn't because of me, I’m so sorry for what I said. I really didn’t mean it like that.” Lance said, eyes fixed on the counter and voice heavy. A familiar ache resurfaced in Keith and he stopped cutting the fruits, placing the knife down and looking carefully at Lance.

He looked different in the light, not in a sense that he’d changed completely, but daylight fixated on the angles and hollows of his face, highlighting the shadows and lines. The soft wrinkles near his eyes had deepened, alongside deep bags under his eyes. He looked pale,  _ so  _ pale, that Keith could almost see the green of veins.

The ache deepend, magnifying into an almost  _ choking _ sadness. Lance looked so  _ wrecked _ .

“No! Not at all.” He quickly said, worry rising as Lance still didn't look up at him. “This was… a long time coming, honestly, and you helped me realise that.”

Lance lifted his head slightly but his face was completely downcast. “I’m  _ so _ sorry, Keith, I’m so sorry.” His voice wavered at the second repeat, bottom lip now quivering. He still wouldn't meet his eyes, but Keith could feel that Lance still had more to say, something ain to stermination radiating off of him in waves. His eyes were shining, almost glassy in the daylight.

Keith sighed to himself, eyeing Lance carefully as he stared at a wall next to Keith. 

“Lance, where have you been?”

The question doesn't seem to surprise Lance, but it causes his shoulders to slump forward slightly.

Keith watched, breath caught in his throat as Lance took a deep breath, eyes flickering to him hesitantly before going back to the wall. “Away, and with family. I still had uni classes -- luckily it wasn't exam season — so I did still go to those, but the rest of the time… it was just us.”

Lance paused, and Keith gave him time to take a few deep breaths before continuing, voice steadier this time.

“The extended family was there at first too, cousins, aunts, uncles… my grandmother had a lot of siblings and they were all around for a while… but then it was just my siblings and parents and me. Just us for a while.” Lances mouth opened as if to say something else, before closing quickly. He then looked over at Keith for the first time since coming over, eyes hesitant, before continuing. “It’s kinda weird, right? To lose such a...  _ constant _ in your life. None of us, my mother, father, even cousins have known a life without her and now she's just... gone.”

His last word hung in the air, somewhere between the two of them, almost taunting him. Keith knew about  _ ‘gone’ _ .

“You know,” he began hesitantly, when Lance didn't speak. “I was so  _ scared _ when you visited me that night.” Lance’s eyes flashed with guilt, wincing slightly at the memory. “You were drenched, muddy... you looked absolutely  _ devastated _ .” Keith’s tone was rising slightly, as he felt the anxiety tied with the image resurface. “I didn't know what to do.” 

“I know, and that was so unfair of me.” Lance’s voice was heavy and Keith could feel the remorse in his tone. It spurred him to push forward more. “It was so unfair for you.”

“You stopped calling me for a while before that.” Keith’s voice was more timid now, almost mirroring Lance’s earlier hesitance.

“Yeah,” he admitted, downcast. “You… uh… you just… you made me feel so  _ happy _ , and it didn't feel right to feel that way when everyone around me was so upset. I felt guilty everytime I’d come home from here with a smile.”

“You just… everything stopped so abruptly.” and then, voice softer. “I thought you hated me.”

Lance’s eyes widened in surprise and he near jumped at the statement. “No! No I could never hate you! It was the complete opposite; I  _ loved _ hanging out with you. Honestly.”

Keith’s thoughts raced at a thousand miles per hour, skirting over the tip of his tongue before he had the chance to grasp at any of them properly. “You… liked hanging out… with… me?”

“Well yeah, that's kind of why I came here everyday.” Lance said it as if it were the most obvious thing on earth, and that set a fire to Keith’s insides.

_ Oh. _

“So then why’d you come back here now?” Keith asked hesitantly, nervous to hear the answer.

“I… thought I was allowed to feel happy again.” Lance’s voice fell and he suddenly seemed very small. “Even if only for a little while.”

Keith felt the ache magnify and pulsate, a steadily growing pain. “What about Hunk and Pidge? Why didn't you go to them?”

That question seemed to catch Lance off guard, eyes widened in surprise. “I guess… I don't know… on those days I just wanted to run away from it all and this felt like the safest place to go.” Keith felt his heart clench. “Hunk knew her pretty well as well, it didn't feel right to burden him with my worries too, and with Pidge… I don't really know why, I’m sorry. It just felt… better to come here, like at the time, when my headspace was not the best this was the only place I could think of.”

Keith’s heart lurched for Lance. The sincerity and ardency by which he confessed all of this felt so… compassionate, so unfiltered and kind. Keith almost felt like he didn't deserve it. Lance seemed to look less nervous now, although he still eyed Keith cautiously as if looking for a cue for how to proceed.

“Are…” Keith tasted the words on his tongue, a similar hesitance to Lance in his actions. “Are you okay now, Lance?”

Lance seemed to ponder on that question, almost as if he hadn't considered it himself before.

“Yeah? I think so. Like, I don’t think I’ll be fully okay… for a while… but I’m better.” He spoke with more confidence, allowing Keith to let out a breath he didn't know he’d been holding. “I’ve been spending a lot of time with my family.” Keith watched, almost mesmerised as his eyes suddenly lit up ever so slightly. “They mean everything to me. They’ve always been there for me and are the best I could ever ask for. That's why…” his voice trailed off. He raised his eyes to look at Keith carefully. “When we started becoming close, spending so much time together, I sort of felt like… you kind of started becoming my family too… and I don't know... the thought of losing you? Of not being able to take care of you when you need it? Broke me.”

There was no more nervousness, no more hesitance. Lance’s eyes met his with an unrivalled certainty, a sincerity which moved Keith. He felt the intensity of Lance’s words hit him like a wave, rolling over him and leaving him drenched with the impact.

“You shouldn't have felt like you had to take care of me… that was my fault. I’m so so sorry for putting you in that position.”

“No, I’m sorry; I played around with you so cruelly. I befriended you, put you in a situation where you cared and depended on me and I thoughtlessly abused your trust.” Keith wanted to reach over to Lance, to insist he was wrong and that it was  _ him _ who should be saying those words. “But I'm ready to be better from now on if you’ll give me the chance. I was just… in such a bad headspace  _ fuck _ but that still doesn't excuse my behaviour.

“No... I know what it's like to lose someone and have to go through that alone.” Keith had never been the type to open up so willingly, but he felt like he had to offer some of himself back to Lance, if only out of respect for his honesty. “I’m sorry that you had to suffer alone too, and that I couldn’t be someone who could help you.”

“Keith, you have no reason to be-“

“No,” Keith cut him off forcefully, wincing as he saw Lance retract sadly. “I… I need to say this. I’ve done this before… where I make mistakes and ignore them, avoiding confronting my faults. I did that to Pidge who was a friend that needed me and I let them down  _ constantly _ by never being there for them. I was their only friend, but they couldn't even confide in me because I was too obsessed with my own issues to help them with theirs. I don't want to make the same mistakes again, not with you.”

Lance’s face softened, a sympathetic smile on his face. He reached out across the counter to touch Keith’s hand softly. Keith hadn't even realised it had been shaking. When Keith didn't protest Lance held his hand fully, thumb soft on the back of Keith’s hand. He held his breath.

“You didn’t make any mistakes, Keith. I was the one who put you in this awful situation, blamed you for being yourself and for factors outside of your control just because I was hurt.”

“I’ve done much worse, believe me, you’re an angel compared to me.”

Lance frowned. “No, I don’t like that. You know I think you’re wonderful, Keith?”

Keith stilled, words caught in his throat. 

“You’re so wonderful.” Keith couldn't formulate a response, instead deciding to focus on Lance’s hand around his. “I watch the way you interact with customers, how  _ kind _ you are even when it make you a little uncomfortable, how good you are to Pidge and Shiro and even to me when I annoy you. You’re so careful with everything in the shop, so thoughtful and meticulous. Shit, Keith, you're  _ so _ good.”

Keith struggled to process the feelings he was running through, an intense wave of emotions rising up inside him to the point of suffocating. 

He felt like he didn't deserve any of it. Didn’t deserve Lance, didn't deserve his apology. He felt like a con for making Lance think otherwise.

“No, Lance,” his voice was shaky and choked up, vision clouding as his eyes . Lances fingers entwined with his and he pressed hard in response, grounding Keith slightly. “I’m awful. I’ve been so  _ awful _ . I… you know I lost my mother in a car crash when I was younger right?”

Lance nodded slowly, eyes furrowing slightly in concern as he held Keith’s gaze.

“She was delivering flowers, fucking  _ flowers _ of all things. She loved the shop so much… and for the longest time I felt like it sort of took her for me. I hated this place so much, and without her I... I just stopped having a reason to care for myself. I didn't think there was any need to anymore. I put everyone around me through hell and I just didn't care, didn't feel anything or notice as I was spiralling out of control.”

“ _ Shit _ , Keith, I’m so sorry. I can't believe I made you feel guilty for that….”

“There was no way for you to know, stop apologising for things you didn't do. I didn't even realise myself until a while back… and you helped me recognise that. I didn't think I had people who cared about what happened to me… but I know now that I do, and I’ll try to be better, for them and myself.”

Lance’s eyes shone with warmth, and something akin to  _ pride _ . “Keith… I’m so happy for you...  and thank you so much for being so patient with me. You’ve taken such good care of me, always, this would’ve been so difficult without you.”

Keith was speechless. He thought he didn't know how to take care of anyone.

“No, you're the one who was constantly going out of your way to help me. You're so modest, you are so amazing-”

“Keith, stop putting yourself down so much. You’ve done so much more for me than you could even know.”

“No, you were the one who came here almost every night just to make sure I didn’t starve myself, you always went out of your way for me… I made you have to do so much work for me-”

“That's because I wanted to.” Lance firmly cut him off, looking at him again with that  _ sincerity _ that made Keith forget how to speak. “You never forced me to do anything, I came to you because I wanted to, because you were someone special to me.”

“Special.” Keith dumbly repeated, unable to articulate much more.

Lance blinked in confusion before breaking out into a small smile, eyes soft and welcoming. “You  _ are _ someone special to me. Someone I care deeply about.”

Keith suddenly felt a rush of fatigue overtake him, from a restless night and the emotional expenditure. He fell back onto a stool next to him at the counter, letting himself slump forward and rest his head in his palms. Lance quickly came up to him, holding him hesitantly and then more firmly when Keith didn’t protest. 

“I know you can look after yourself now, but you really don’t have to.” Lance said softly.

“I don't want to burden you.” Keith mumbled back.

Lance scoffed. “Caring about you isn’t a burden, idiot,” and more softly, “You're not a burden, Keith.”

Keith didn't feel like he deserved any of it, but he didnt feel like he was  _ forcing _ Lance anymore either. 

He spoke hesitantly. “I was ready to move on… ready to forget you after you stopped talking to me.”

“I… understand.” Lance retracted from his side and Keith felt a shock from the sudden absence of warmth. “I can leave now if you want, not another word, or message. I've probably troubled you enough-”

“No!” He blurted out, snapping around to look at a startled Lance a few feet away. “I don't want you to leave.”

It was a kind of confession unlike Keith, more like Lance with its sincerity and rawness. Lance blinked a few times in surprise before the corners of his mouth tilted up to a shy, soft smile.

Lance hummed. “I don't know, kinda feels like you don't need me here anymore.”

“No, I still need you.”

It was an echo of a night ago, but after everything they’d just been through, it didn't carry the same emotional weight. Instead, Lance just grinned.

“Then I guess I’ll stay.”

* * *

 

 

By now, Keith was familiar with the inevitability of change. He could feel it coming, approaching him like a curling wave to the shoreline, and when it crashed, he let it fall over him. 

It had come to him in both little steps and larger ones, from longer and happier conversations with Pidge to a rekindled relationship with Lance. Even Shiro talked to him differently, sharing more about his life, his new job,  _ girlfriend. _ Keith hadn't realised how much Shiro had been internalising for his own sake. The other people around him had changed too, some less subtle than others. Pidge no longer walked around on eggshells with him and Hunk exerted a similar comfortability with Keith, inviting him to plenty of smaller hangouts. Shiro was slightly less worried (only  _ slightly)  _ and chastising around him, instead giving him more space to breathe on his own. 

Shiro being less concerned with Keith’s life meant he had more time to spend on his own.

Keith hadn't realised how he’d forced his friends and family to revolve around him, hadn't realised the stress he’d put them under, but now that he was trying to be better, they were allowed to be more free. 

Keith had never been more proud than when Shiro told him he was coming back to town, but wouldn't have enough time to work at the shop because of his  _ girlfriend _ (which Shiro didn't explicitly say, but he didn't have to).

Keith could see the positive effects of his efforts, and was determined to continue.

He had things to look forward to now, days filled with outings and group hangs that always left him in fits of laughter. He still worked and studied a lot in his spare time, but he was less burdened by them both instead  _ enjoying _ them slightly.

Lance was helping too. He’d been a little hesitant at first with Keith, but in only a few days it had been like nothing had gone wrong in the first place, both of them falling into the comfortable rhythm they’d established. Keith cherished those moments the most, late nights that got later and longer with Lance around. Lance going out with him for drives or to eat almost everyday, Lance staying over a few nights, staying with him.

Lance was also more open to Keith. Keith was learning slightly more and more about the other boy which despite his inability to  _ ever _ stop talking, Keith had not known before. Lance felt less closed off, less distant. 

(It did absolutely  _ nothing _ to help Keith’s resurfaced crush).

Things were okay again.

No —that wasn't quite right, things were  _ better  _ than okay. They were wonderful, everything was wonderful.

Keith looked around at the shop with a unfamiliar sense of glee. It wasn't a bad sort of new, just unfamiliar. He looked around at the plants surrounding him, each a testament to his work and  felt a sense of almost  _ pride.  _

_ Very _ unfamiliar.

He’d seen Lance’s house, for the first time. It was exactly what he’d expected it to be, the essence of Lance so overpowering and emanating off of every object, from the large Star Wars posters to the x-files figurines, the star maps to the  _ Red Velvet _ photocards, everything was  _ Lance _ .

Not to mention the flowers. When Keith first entered the apartment he’d been overwhelmed by the aroma, the tangle of various different breeds all respiring into the small space. They were everywhere, vases adoring windowsills and tabletops.

Keith recognised some of the bouquets (heathers, tulips…  _ hawthorns _ ).

“Lance… are those…?” He’d began, trailing off as his eyes took in more and more of the flowery landscape.

“Yeah… Allura kind of rejected me pretty quick after the first bouquet.” He chuckled, then suddenly looking away before he continued. “But I needed a reason to keep coming to the shop.”

_ Oh _ .

Each flower was in immaculate condition.

“They all look incredible.” Keith mused in wonder, examining a nearby vase of chrysanthemums. “And these are crazy old. How did you do it?”

“I’m more than just a pretty face, you know.” Lance teased. Oh, did Keith  _ know _ . “Believe it or not I didn't just spend everyday staring at your face, I actually listened to some of your botany lectures.”

Keith almost choked at that.

It was a few days of that, circling back and forth. Keith felt like something was coming, like all of this push and pull was reaching a breaking point, but he let it play out. 

He just enjoyed having Lance around.

And so, it was a surprise, although not an unwelcome one, when Lance called Keith out from the backroom to the counter in the shop, standing with his arms behind his back.

“Close your eyes!” He __ ? gushed? Said excitedly.

Keith rolled his eyes but obliged. He felt Lance reach out and grab his arms, ignoring the increase in tempo of his pulse in response. He felt something papery pushed into his hands, face scrunching up in confusion as he tried to figure out what it was.

“And now! Open your eyes.”

He did just that. He met Lance’s bright eyes, looking at him expectantly and then lowered his gaze to the object in his hands. His mouth widened in surprise, turning it over in his hands, the familiar soft lilac tissue paper wrapping and gold ribbon sparking a burst of warmth in his chest.

_ A bouquet _ .

He looked at it closer, admiring the selection of red, blue, and purple.

“So?” Lance pressed, looking at him eagerly. “What's your response?”

Keith tilted his head slightly in confusion. “Response to what?”

Lance looked dumbfounded. “Ranunculus? Red Carnations? Red roses?  _ Asters _ ?” Keith blinked back blankly, causing Lance to groan.

Keith chuckled. “I know  _ most _ of them but I haven't gotten American flower language memorised.”

“But you’re a botanist!”

“By  _ hobby _ , I haven't actually studied anything.” Keith laughed until he realised how distraught Lance still looked. “Hey,  _ hey _ , it’s okay. Tell me what they mean.”

“Uh,” Lance began nervously, rubbing his palms on his jeans before proceeding. Keith couldn't help but feel slightly charmed by this flushed-cheeks nervous Lance. It was Lance out of his comfort zone, but he was pushing himself  _ for Keith _ . It had his heart beat a little faster. “I was hoping I really wouldn't have to say this dumb shit out loud but…  _ Ranunculus _ ,” He pointed at the delicate white flowers at the edges, their petals circling around in loops, leaning in towards a small yellow bud. “Means ‘I am dazzled by your charms’.”

_ Oh _ . Keith was suddenly hit by a realisation. The bouquet, Lance’s fidgeting, sweaty palms.  _ This was a confession _ .

Keith didn't think he’d ever felt so happy before. 

“The uh, red carnations and red roses are both… passionate love.” Keith's smile widened, the warmth burgeoning in his chest and spreading out as he looked at Lance stumbling with fondness. “The blue irises are for faith…” Keith understood what Lance was trying to say without him needing to continue and decided to put Lance out of his misery.

“I don’t know, Lance…” Keith trailed off, crossing his arms in mock annoyance. He lifted himself to sit on the countertop, legs dangling off the side. “None of these flowers feel especially…  _ sexy _ to me.”

Lance’s jaw dropped, and his eyes narrowed in incredulancy.

“You- you beat me at my own game.”

“You’re pretty easy to beat.” Keith flashed him a shit-eating grin. Lance continued looking absolutely aggrieved, but the corners of his mouth tilted up slightly. 

“Shit, I need to change tactics.” Lance pulled out his phone. “Hey Siri, what type of flower will get cute brooding florist guy to date me?”

“Oh my god,  _ shut up _ .” Keith laughed.

Lance grinned, moving closer to Keith on the counter. He rested his arms on both sides of Keith, eyes level with his on.

“Is that a challenge?” 

Keith's mouth snapped shut, eyes wide. 

“Ambrosia.”

“What the fuck, Keith?”

Keith smiled softly. “It means reciprocated love.”

Lance mimicked his smile, eyes gleaming in what Keith could only label as  _ affectionate _ before he leaned in softly. “You remembered that but none of my flowers?” His voice was a whisper, close enough to be heard fully nonetheless.

Keith took a slight breath in before leaning closer too, lifting up his arms to wrap around Lance’s neck. “I’ve been waiting to use this one.” He murmured back before closing the gap. 

It wasn't anything like he’d supposed it might be, no electricity or fireworks, just warmth. He could feel Lance’s hands move across his neck into his hair, pulled gently at the roots.

“You know I’ve always thought your mullet was kinda sexy.” Lance murmured against his lips, before moving back in.

The warmth melded into a heat, into a fire. A powerful, heart wrenching  _ intensity _ took him over, spurring the need for  _ more _ , more proximity and more-

Lance pulled away all too soon, leaving Keith to chase his lips for a few seconds after. He opened his eyes gently, a look of slight awe upon his face. If Keith had been struggling to breathe before, now he was fully  _ breathless _ at the sight of a blushing, smiling Lance, face looking just so  _ pure _ and soft in wonder.

“Oh? You’ve got something in your face.” Lance hummed, lips turned up in a mischievous grin.

“Lance,  _ please- _ ”

Lance giggled and leaned in, breath hot on Keith’s face. “It’s my lips.”

“I swear to god, if I didn’t like you so much, I would leave right now.” Keith commented dryly, though it was undermined by an especially deep shade of red on his neck and up to his cheeks. 

Lance grinned. “It's a good thing you do then.”

“It sure is.” Keith hummed, leaning back into Lance.

 

* * *

 

 

Keith was so happy, so  _ so  _ happy. He hadn’t felt this way in so long.

“I have something to show you.” He grabbed Lance’s hand with a wide grin and pulled him into the back room, showing him a vase on display. He picked it up and held it in front of the other puzzled boy.

“What’s this?” Lance asked, eyes wide as he looked at the bouquet in Keith’s hands.

“Your blue roses.”

“But you said-”

“Yeah I…” Suddenly Keith couldn't look Lance straight in the eyes anymore, feeling a creeping heat rising to his cheeks. “I started preparing a bunch right after you mentioned them ages ago.”

“No, no! I love them Keith.” Lance flashed him the  _ brightest _ smile Keith had even seen in his entire life and it felt like his world had just stopped. “I love them.”

Lance held them up to his face and breathed them in, his face relaxed and eyes so  _ bright. _ Keith let himself relax, allowing a small smile to show on his face. 

“Blue’s my favourite colour.” Lance sighed contently, lowering the bouquet to look at Keith again.

“You know, I never liked blue.” Keith mused, earning a quizzical eyebrow-raise from Lance. “But I really don't mind it anymore.”

“You  _ just _ ‘don't mind it’?” Lance teased.

“Mm, yeah, I think I could grow to love it even.”

Keith had spent a lot of his life running away. Whether it be when he literally ran away from his hometown or when he ran away from his problems, avoiding emotional confrontation like the plague. He had refused to acknowledge his issues, let alone face them to overcome them, preferring instead to let them sit and broil, a steaming hot mixture of anger and resentment unfurling in his chest.

He felt lighter than he had in awhile.

Keith had walked away from Pidge, he’d walked away from Shiro. Essentially he’d walked away from all the people who’d ever tried to help him, not paying enough attention to realise how he hurt them in doing so.

Lance wasn’t the first person Keith hadn’t wanted to lose, and Keith hoped he wouldn't be the last.

He was surrounded by so many incredible people, from new friends to old family who'd all sunken deep into his heart, wedging their way in. Lance had not been the first, no, but he was the only one who’d made Keith cognisant of himself.

For the longest time Keith had no desire to live, he’d loved and he’d lost and he hadn’t seen any point of doing it again. But this time he’d loved and almost lost, and that pain of  _ almost _ was one he never wished to inflict on anyone.

Lance had made him realise how much he’d been hurting the people around him.

He’d been able to fully comprehend the rush of emotion Shiro must have felt every time his calls would go straight to voicemail, arriving at Keith’s apartment to see the lights broken and a limp body sprawled across the floor. He’d release the pain Pidge must have felt every time he’d drink a little too much, their younger self unable to understand how to control the raging hurricane of Keith, smaller frame almost dragged along every time they'd try to pull him back from the rooftop railing.

He understood now that in losing interest to live, not only was he killing himself but the parts of him that resided in others around him.

It wasn't just Lance, it was everyone around him, wedging their way into his life and caring so much about him at the right time that had made him want to be better. Keith felt like a complete  _ fool _ for ever hurting them, for deliberately letting them down.

He hoped his mum would be proud.

He hadn't realised how he’d sort of walked away from her too, from the shop she’d devoted so much fo her life and love to. She’d always been warm and kind, and Keith had responded by treating her memory with nothing but coldness. 

Things wouldn't just be automatically ‘fixed’ from now on, but they would get better. Keith could  _ feel  _ it, things were definitely going to get better.

He had found and built something consistent around himself, something  _ steady _ . He had a life and friends that he cared about, a person whom he  _ deeply _ cared about.

He had something he didn't want to walk away from.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhhh this is the first ever fic i've finished. EVER . even back when i was eleven writing dumbass 1d fanfiction ......... i never got this far. thank u to everyone who left comments and kudos they mean so much to me honestly!!! they bring such a big smile to my face and make me feel all giddy ahhh.
> 
> i think i've improved a little writing this! and hopefully i'll continue to improve. i'm definitely gonna write more klance for SURE. i actually have a poll up on my twitter here ( ) if u wanna vote for what i should write next??? it wont be for a while bc i have finals the next moth.... rip @ my ass post ib. but after that i have all the time in the WORLD to write to my hearts content and get better at writing so i can put some Good Content out there.
> 
> once again thank you so much for sticking w me this far! this has been phools. wish u all the best!
> 
> also!!! i have a poll on my twitter that u should DEF answer abt which fic i should write next lol.  
> https://twitter.com/booseungkwn/status/982626193500389402  
>    
>  _I'm here, at the beginning of the end_  
>  _Oh, the end of infinity with you_  
>  _I'm done with having dreams, the thing that I believe_  
>  _Oh, you drain all the fear from me_
> 
> phir milenge ~~


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